Thomas, not Chip this time. He just cracks me up. He stopped by yesterday afternoon to tell us he was going with his girlfriend and her sister to a cheerleading “something” in Pittsburgh. They would be leaving today at o’dark hundred and be back sometime tonight.

Guess he talked to Chip before he left, and Chip said, no, they are going to Philadelphia.

Thomas just called to let us know they were there. “Where, Thomas?” Philadelphia. And, he went on to describe his first impressions of true inner city. He’ll call when he leaves, and let us know when he gets back.

Followed by an immediate call back. “Amanda said we are in Pittsburgh. I thought Pittsburgh was in Philadelphia.”

Larry is just shaking his head. “You did let him onto the secret that Pearl Harbor is not in the Hudson Bay, didn’t you?” S’ok. Geography is not our strong suit.

We are 18 days post accident. Time is relative. One moment it seems impossible that we are moving into weeks. The next moment, it seems that life has always been this way. We continue to be overwhelmed by the outpouring of love, prayers, and genuine concern.

Chip continues to show improvement. What we are living with today is light years from the first few days home. His pain is greatly improved. Early morning, late evening, and after any activity seems to be the most difficult.

The agitation and anger have been replaced with restlessness and frustration. That is much easier to deal with. For all of us.

There are changes, for sure, but where it counts Chip is still Chip. For that we are grateful.

Everything that we are seeing, we are assured is “normal” for this type of injury.

Short term memory, sense of time, and general confusion are terrible, but strategies suggested seem to help. On the bright side, the animals seem to enjoy occasional extra feedings, and have become adept at playing this to their benefit.

There are bouts of awkwardness, clumsiness, and lack of coordination. It is frustrating, but we are all learning to laugh it off. Like the pain, it seems worse upon waking or when tired.

He still tires easily and is sleeping alot, so it is difficult to judge his ability to concentrate. The good news is that, while it took over a week, he has figured out most of the features on his new cell phone – so the determination is still there. He is stubborn, like his mother.

Most noticeably, Chip seems not to want to be alone. He is ensconced in the living room, and seems comforted by our proximity and casual conversation. Tiptoeing around and whispering while he rests have become “normal.” While a bit disconcerting as it is such a departure from our quiet loner, Larry and I are actually enjoying this part. I think it is healing for all of us.

Saturday was rather amusing. Larry had been back at work all week. I had been working a fairly normal telecommuting schedule, but had still been maintaining nearly 24/7 caregiving. We thought it would be a good thing for me to get a break, so I arranged to spend the evening stamping at Debbie’s. Guess who wanted to come along?!

Chip rested on her sofa and watched movies with his uncle, while Debbie and I played in her studio. I still got a break, sort of. Chip got a change of scenery. Debbie & Doug got to enjoy an unusual social visit. And, Larry got to take a nap on our sofa. lol

Yesterday was a good one. We will take more of those, please.

On Thursday, at the suggestion of Chip’s clinic doc, we were given a script for .5 mg of Ativan (3xday) and told it might help the periods of agitation. We were leery because of its addictive properties, but decided to add it to the regimen yesterday.

While I am not completely comfortable with it, we have seen an immediate improvement in his agitation and impulsiveness. So we will trust that his doctor will manage this to Chip’s benefit. Certainly, his safety (in terms of re-injury) is our first concern.

And, I will say that we have started to see glimmers of the Chip we know. “Please” and “thank you” have returned to his vocabulary, and he has begun friendly and casual conversations as he watches movies with us.

Yesterday afternoon, he took the dog for a potty walk, and heeded our advice to go only half has far as he thought he could so that he would have the strength and energy to return. He was gone less than 10 minutes.

Yes, he was alittle bothered by his lack of strength, but the pleasure in being able to get home under his own steam outweighed the disappointment. Success breeds success, so we will take that too.

Chip is home! He was discharged late Wednesday evening. I am not entirely convinced that this wasn’t too early, but it was not our decision.

The hospital administered pain meds just before our departure, but the energy expended in getting him home left him agitated and in pain until his next dose was due four hours later. Exhausted, he slept from 10-ish until early morning.

He woke up agitated again. I gave him his meds and they (of course) did not take effect immediately. “Take me back to the hospital.” His longest, most complex sentence to date. I tried to get him to settle down, give the meds a chance, and promised to call the doctor’s office when they opened. He would have none of it and called 9-1-1.

We spent most of Thursday in the ER. The good news was that the CT looked good. Still no active bleeding. Most of the swelling around the side and back was gone. There was alittle more swelling around the front lobe, but it was explained as “normal” – “bruises often swell as they are healing.”

The increased agitation, moodiness, anger, and impulsiveness was explained away by the increased swelling. It was like pulling teeth, but the neurosurgeon finally set some expectations, saying that we should see “dramatic improvement” over the next 1-2 weeks.

They are still evasive on recovery. “6-8 weeks, 6-9 months, or 1-3 years.” I am in the wrong business when it comes to having to provide realistic assessments and accurate reports. But I digress.

After consulting with Chip’s clinic doctor, the medication doses were changed, and an agreement to team-treat his recovery was reached. The Neuro Team will treat his neurological recovery, and the clinic will treat his pain management. Chip is more comfortable with this, I am happy with it, and the Neurosurgeon is thrilled to relinquish that area of risk.

For the most part, Chip rests comfortably. However, he remains extremely frustrated. I do not believe he is able to completely grasp the gravity of his condition. He certainly does not understand why his body will not cooperate with the resumption of normal activity. There is zero comprehension of the danger of re-injury.

Thursday night, he wanted to go for a walk and called a friend to go with him. We begged them not to. The friend tried to talk Chip out of it. Again, Chip would have none of it and threatened to go alone.

They made it two blocks before having to call for a ride back to the house.

Yesterday, one of his friends sat with him, watching him sleep, most of the day. After she left, he complained of being “stir crazy,” so I took him for a ride. That seemed to relax him and he rested for most of the evening.

Then last night, having been alarmed by the first excursion, no one would walk with him. He made it, alone, about one half mile before calling me.

At 2 am, he wanted to borrow my car. Yeah, I’d be jumping right on that. Not.

Now, I have to say there was an element of improvement. Wednesday or Thursday would have brought a great deal of ugliness and anger. I won’t say there was no anger – just an angry acceptance. I will take that as a form of improvement, but I must say it is wearing thin.

As alarming as all of this is, I am beginning to see what they have meant about behavioral and personality changes in those with frontal lobe injuries. While it is “normal,” this is certainly not “normal” for us. Any of us.

How am I? How is Larry? Thrilled to have Chip home. Encouraged by small improvements. Hanging on by a thread, and anxiously watching for glimmers of light at the end of this very dark tunnel.